


work of art

by chogiwarned



Series: excessively metaphoric stray kids' sex [2]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: (once again), :(, Fluff, Freckles, It's Soft, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, and jisung's his sun, attempt at poetry, felix is an entire galaxy, i love jilix, i'm SOFT, no it's not graphic or explicit, non-graphic sexual intercourse, yes they are having sex again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 17:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16453967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chogiwarned/pseuds/chogiwarned
Summary: what happens, when a writer loves a painter?





	work of art

**Author's Note:**

> yeah it's me again huh  
> idk i was inspired nd soft again  
> jilix fluff, ya know  
> i think i have a thing for soft top jisung

what happens, when a writer loves a painter?

he’s standing in front of the canvas, paint staining his hands, thighs and soul. there’s a bonfire of colours that slips between his teeth and something howls inside him as he lets it drip on felix’s face. the portrait is glowing, freckles sprinkled like constellations on a soft nose and high cheekbones, red locks falling on his forehead with the breath of wind and he faces it with brave sparkling in his eyes and fearless hiding in his smile.

 

jisung paints with his soul and blood and pours everything he is in the tender features, eyes closed and his entire being feeling the aquarelle soaking his paper up. he cuts his fingers on a sharp jaw and only ceases when his lover’s arms trap him in a bone-crushing embrace, warm lips kissing endless love on the back of his neck. “ _ hey, sparkle. you tired? _ ” felix just hums, before he slumps against him with an exhausted sigh. “ _ i wanna cuddle. _ ”

 

felix is, in short, a work of art.

jisung feels it on his fingertips, as he lays the boy on his sheets and presses butterfly kisses along his face, jaw, throat and collarbones. he bites his name in crimson red letters right there, his hands staining wet, painting rainbows on the tanned skin of his hips. they trail over felix’s sides and muscle memory makes him press fingers against sweet spots, jisung enjoying the way felix writhes under his touch.

 

felix is, in a nutshell, sensitive.

jisung knows it when he nibbles on his chest and sucks divinity between freckles, when he counts them with the tip of his tongue and lets it retrace the outline of his birthmarks. “ _ you’re an entire galaxy. _ ” he makes sure to let felix know how cherished and beautiful he is, each press of his lips followed by a praise - something about the curve of his nose, the way his mouth quirks when he smirks, but mostly his freckles.

 

felix is, to be honest, insecure.

jisung notices it as felix hides his freckles under layers of foundation, mainly because of the agency but also because he doesn’t feel confident enough; he notices it and it makes him want to sprain his wrist against a wall. instead he kisses and sighs against each freckle, counting them and pouring love on his beautiful body. “ _ i’m sure i could find endless constellations on you. _ ” felix laughs a little, breathless and flushed to the chest. “ _ gorgeous _ ”, jisung whispers. “ _ holy _ ”, he breathes. “ _ mine _ ”, he growls.

 

felix is, in a way, precious.

jisung is deeply aware of it, holding him gently and always making sure he’s feeling good. felix’s the priority, he chants as he grips his hips and brings him closer and closer until he doesn’t know where he ends and where felix begins. he swallows his moans greedily and wipes the stray tears away with another kiss, cautious as he knows felix can easily feel overwhelmed. “ _ you okay, sparkle? _ ” he gives an experimental bite under his right ear, breathing in the writer’s smell. he smells like spilled ink, warm coffee and infinity. when jisung kisses him, he tastes ichor and drinks it up willingly.

 

felix is, shortly, jisung’s.

that’s what jisung is sure of, when felix comes apart in his hands with his name on the edge of his lips and  _ yours _ written all over his face. it takes so little to make him cry and jisung loves it as much as he hates it, swallowing the sea and replacing it with promises of love and forest fires. he follows suit and his lungs fill with everything that felix offers, the australian reduced to a sweaty, spent mess as jisung makes him whole again.

 

deep down, it’s the other way around.

 

it’s jisung that’s a work of art.

felix feels it at the back of his throat, when he kisses him with nothing less than want and devotion, words filling his mind and itching his fingers to go and write mindless prose. jisung sets him on fire and it’s a will-o’-the-wisp, in shades of indian red and steel blue that melts into a lake of purple, that bites pink at the edges. felix’s eyes scream  _ yours _ as jisung carves affection on his bones and he kisses forever on his spine in return, claws scratching at his back when it gets too much.

 

it’s jisung that’s sensitive.

felix knows it as he presses his hips harder and digs his nails deeper, relishing on the gasps and the moans that he earns - he meets every kiss that jisung gives him and bites on his bottom lip, playful and loving and already overwhelmed. he laughs against his mouth as jisung speaks. “ _ and you’d be the sun, angel. _ ” he licks a bonfire on his tongue and they’re both burning in a lascivious blaze. he whines as jisung becomes a little reckless, words stuck in his throat. tears spill on his cheeks, frustration building as he loses his mind.

 

it’s jisung that’s insecure.

felix notices it when jisung thinks he’s not watching. he pinches his cheeks and stomach and curses his inability to work out enough - so felix makes it his priority to stuff loves that tastes like toffee apple dates that end with fireworks and a rollercoaster. his hands graze over jisung’s face and he kisses his cheek one after the other, pouring adoration on his lips - he brushes his stomach and squeezes his hips with a possessive glint in his eyes, hungrily biting at the tender flesh. “ _ beautiful _ ”, he whispers. “ _ perfect _ ”, he wheezes. “ _ mine _ ”, he groans.

 

it’s jisung that’s precious.

felix is painfully aware of it, his every gesture registered by the soft boy. he guides him through the entire dance, raising and lowering in rhythm and coaxing him into a somewhat slow pace. perhaps jisung doesn’t notice it, too engrossed in his desire to take care of felix - it’s a discreet kind of guidance, felix whispering rubbish inside his ear just to let the deep rumble of his voice ground jisung.

 

it’s jisung that’s felix’s.

that’s what felix is sure of, when jisung stills all of a sudden, overcome by a soft, sweet wave of contentment. jisung licks the aftermath off of felix’s face while felix slides two filthy fingers in his own mouth, a teasing smile stretching his swollen lips. they both laugh and share a few other numbing kisses, though jisung fakes being disgusted by felix’s attitude. jisung shines over felix, and it’s enough.

they fall asleep with ichor in their mouths and forever written between their ribs.

 

felix wakes up first and stirs jisung awake with presses of his lips and fingers, whispering about feeling gross and needing him to let him go. jisung’s dizzy with sleep and all but whines, nuzzling deeper into felix’s embrace. “ _ don’t go. i love you. _ ” and somehow it rips the skies open and cuts into felix’s core, stuffing it with cotton candy and stolen kisses in front of the stars.

 

he’s sitting in front of his desk, slitting his throat open over the pages. ink stains his soul and bones and he bleeds on his book, the words slipping out of his mind and onto pristine paper. he writes and writes and writes until it becomes a blur of prose and feelings scattered on the floor, rolled up in white balls of crumbled paper. he writes about soft cheeks and blinding smile, about a heart bigger than the milky way and louder than the end of the world. he writes about first loves and pinky promises and jisung’s name, carved on his own heart, stings with every beat.

**Author's Note:**

> im too lazy to open photoshop so no moodboard  
> my twt's @IL0VELIX im lazy again  
> comments nd kudos appreciated but not mandatory  
> also, if you have a request in this theme (as in: soft, full of useless metaphores sex) ill take it, any ship i literally ship them all tbh so hit me up!  
> have a nice day, drink water nd know that im full of love


End file.
